Someday This Will All Make Sense
by Goosey Loosey
Summary: Rose is first in her year, Gryffindor's star Chaser and always surrounded by friends but she still feels she's falling behind, because when it comes to boys and love she really doesn't have a clue. WIP. Rated M for language and sexual content in later chapters.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: All things HP related belong to the remarkable JKR.**

 **Eros** \- erotic love

 **Philia** \- affectionate, platonic love

 **Storge** \- familiar love

 **Ludus** \- playful love

 **Mania** \- obsessive love

 **Pragma** \- enduring love

 **Agape** \- selfless love

 **Philautia** \- love of one's self

 **Prologue**

 _ **July 2023**_

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._

 _Rose stirred to the sound of some very enthusiastic knocking on the door, groaning into the arm she had casually thrown over her face._

 _"Rose? Are you okay?" Someone called. A female voice. Familiar, but not one she could place right this moment._

 _There was a small shuffle and some muttering before she heard another voice. "Rosie? It's me, Al. Is everything alright?" He paused. "If you don't reply in 10 seconds I'm going to Allohamora this lock."_

 _Ugh. She swung her arm away from her eyes. What the hell was their problem? Why couldn't they just let her sleep in peace?_

 _And why wouldn't she be alright?_

 _It was just then that she pushed herself up in irritation and registered the hard cold surface she rested her palm on, a marble floor. Her pillow was not so much a pillow but a towel, and she was still fully dressed in her emerald green chiffon dress._

 _Fuck._

 _She flinched as she looked around the bathroom and took in the smell of stale alcohol and vomit…that seemed to be emanating from the toilet. No need to look in there and find out what happened._

 _"Okay, we're coming in!" Albus shouted, just before muttering an 'allohomora' and pushing the door open._

 _She felt even more pathetic when she saw the three people on the other side of the door, their faces plastered with pity and sadness and confusion. Swimming in a slight blur._

 _Her friend Lizzie dropped to her knees beside Rose and brushed aside some stray strands pressed into her clammy face. "That was really gutsy, Rose, what you did in there."_

 _Or just plain stupid._

 _"Yeh, at least he knows how you feel now," Chris mumbled from above._

 _Noting the rotten taste in her mouth, Rose looked skyward and thought how she got into this mess. It was supposed to be simple and carefree but something had gone wrong along the way and she blamed him, the liar. The liar, Scorpius Malfoy._

\- x X x -

 **Chapter One**

\- x X x -

 **December 2022**

Rose was having shitty Christmas.

It started off as it always had: all her Weasley uncles and her Aunt Ginny with their spouses and many, _many_ offspring packed into Grandma and Grandpa Weasley's house. There were so many of them they had to sleep on makeshift mattresses, on the floor, on tables – sometimes as many as six of them in a room. When they were younger, it had been fun for all the cousins to cram into the space, making blanket fortresses and playing games until the early hours of Christmas morning (much to the annoyance of all their parents down the hall) but now, several years later, the sleeping arrangements hadn't really changed. She still shared her mattress on the floor with Lily (who snored, by the way), and where she and James used to play kick at each other when they were younger he was now just outright kicking her, trying to steal her leg space with his long and lanky limbs. It wasn't so playful anymore.

She had woken up quite late and in a foul mood – mainly due to the sleepless night but also, in part, because of her bruised legs and cricked neck – and gone down for Christmas Breakfast with the family only to find that there was very little left except for over-stewed mushrooms and mince-pies. The only thing that made her perk up was the sight of the morning post that the owls had dropped off, swathes of letters from their various friends that had been magically sorted into piles for each recipient in the house. Rose had liked that out of the 'little ones' (as Grandma Weasley still called all her cousins), she had the biggest pile. Literally towering over the rest.

Rose took them all over to the table, beaming as she sat down with some of the morning stragglers: Uncle Harry, Hugo and James.

Her uncle snorted into his tea when she began unfolding the letters over her plate. "I had no idea you teenagers had so much correspondence."

"I think it's just Rose, Dad," James murmured sleepily. "What is it Rose? The whole year wants help with their holiday homework?"

"Nah," her brother answered, before she even had the chance, "It's just gossip from all her friends – Leah, Amelia, Dahlia… or whatever."

"It's not _gossip_ , Hugo. I just have a lot friends and we like to discuss all manner of things," she explained.

"Oh yeah?" James drawled, "Like what?"

"Hair." Hugo mocked, entirely too pleased with himself and, most annoyingly, to the great amusement of James and Uncle Harry.

Curse her brother for making her sound so vapid. Gossip? She was one of the top students in her year, a prefect, a regular contributor to the student newspaper and chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. There was every reason to believe these letters contained something important.

She didn't even dignify her cousin and brother with anything more than eye-roll before she got back to her letter from Camelia about some of her housemates' post-Yule Ball antics in the broom cupboard.

A few minutes later, she had been left alone and found herself skimming through another one of Amelia Heartfield's incomprehensible letters. She always went on for pages and pages, skipping from one topic to another that Rose hardly gave any notice to most of it.

Except she caught the tail end of a sentence. _'Just ignore what they're saying about you…'_ It said.

What were they saying about her? And who?

She flipped the page back and forth, shuffled through the others for more detail. It was just like Amelia to drop such a vague statement and not elaborate on the pages that followed.

She thought she could have ignored her. Maybe Amelia had got confused? It wasn't uncommon. But then she opened the next letter and it had opened with, _'Hope you're having a good holiday. Just wanted to write and see if you were alright?'_ As she'd gone further her heart started beating so hard she could feel the blood pulsing in her ear. Then she read the next letter. Then the next.

 _'…don't worry about it…'_

 _'I'm here if you want to talk…'_

 _'…it doesn't make you a slag… It wasn't even that bad!'_

 _'He's such an arse!'_

 _'...I promise I didn't look at the photo but people said you look good.'_

The photo?

Fuck. Emery Littlewood.

What had he done? Merlin, she was so stupid. And _he_ was such a fucking arsehole.

In amongst those letters were unsigned ones by cowards who hid behind anonymity, single sentences like _'Looking good Weasley.' 'Wanna take a ride on my broomstick?' 'If you think Myrtle moans then wait 'til you spend a night with me.'_ Others were just lewd drawings, often very poor but enough to get the gist.

Rose gathered up the letters, opened and unopened, tears building on her lower lids.

She'd forgotten about it. The photo. It felt like ages ago but it was only a few months back when she and Emery Littlewood had been flirting a little, fooling around in some alcoves and under the Quidditch stands. She had quite liked him, being as charming as he was, nice-looking, a Gryffindor Quidditch player, and she really had thought he was interested in her. It had taken a little while to realise he was probably more interested in seeing what was up her skirt than anything else and she knew she wasn't ready for anything like that with him. Not the way he wanted it anyway. Perhaps it was naïve but she had kind of imagined a trip to Hogsmeade together and tea at _Madame Pudifoot's_ first before they got onto the… romping. Was that the right word? Anyway, she had let him know that she would be taking her time and a week later he was on to some Ravenclaw who gave him what he wanted. Then he had got bored of her too.

Rose was honestly so happy to have dodged that bullet that she'd totally forgotten about the advice she had taken from her friend, Camelia Davenport, before they broke up (if you could really call it a break up). Camelia had suggested that Rose take a photo – in the nude – and then slip it into Emery's books so he would find it unexpectedly.

"It'll be a sexy little surprise," Camelia had said with an excited lilt, "And he'll know you're atleast thinking about it."

Rose hadn't been comfortable with nude, or even topless but she'd done it in her underwear. Brand new, purchased-specially-for-the-occasion underwear with pale blue, shear material so he could just see her nipples and possibly tell that she was neatly shaven under her knickers.

She hadn't wanted something too over-the-top, her aim was 'casual sexy' with her sitting on her bed, legs crooked and smiling. A few wisps of her hair fell from her messy bun and the motion of the picture had caught a slight jiggle of her breasts. She remembered being so pleased, after several attempts, to get the final shot. Now she cringed to think of it.

Urgh.

How many people had seen her like that? Shit. What was everyone going to say? She already had a lot of attention because she was Rose Granger-Weasley, daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger the war heroes, Harry Potter's sidekicks. Then she was a good student and deeply involved in all aspects of Hogwarts life… Her professors would be so disappointed. 'How could Rose Weasley do this?' They would ask. 'How could the daughter of Hermione Granger do this?'

Oh shit. Her parents.

Her dad still thought of her as his innocent little girl, he would probably tear his hair out! And her mother – the paragon of virtue and all things good, fighting for equal rights and respect for women in the magical community while her own daughter was part of a sex scandal? What if it made it to the national papers?

She could just imagine her mother telling her off right now:

'When I was your age I didn't have time to do stuff like this. Do you want to know why? Because I was too busy fighting a fucking war!'

Except she wouldn't swear; her mother never did that. Because she was so damn perfect in every way. She would have thought this all through. Why hadn't Rose?

"Hey. Are you… okay?"

She jumped as Albus suddenly appeared out of nowhere and hurried to shield her letters from him. Not that he would look, he wasn't like that.

"I'm fine," she replied. She was trying to go for nonchalant and thought she'd done a good job of it but he, being Albus, obviously picked up on her lie.

They'd been almost inseparable up until they went off to Hogwarts together and had known each other like the back of their hands: every habit, like, dislike, and they could tell when something was up just by the tone of their voice. They would call each other their 'best friends' rather than 'cousins.' Then Albus had been sorted into Slytherin and made friends with Scorpius Malfoy, and they just stopped hanging out together. Even to this day, however, it seemed he was still the best, out of her massive extended family and entire friend group, at sensing when she was unhappy.

"Okay," He said sceptically, "Well, I'm here if you need something..." He started to retreat from the room before quickly turning back. "Oh, and Grandma told us to come to the living room to open presents – I wonder what she could possibly have for all of us," he added with a sarcastic grin, since they both knew it would be more scarves and knitwear to add to sixteen years' worth of birthday and Christmas presents.

Rose gave a weak laugh. "I don't know how she still manages to knit for all of us."

"Grandpa says she starts in May. Got to love her for that."

She nodded in agreement and shoved her letters aside. She'd have to deal with that fiasco at some point, but not now.

\- x X x -

"Rose! Come on, we're leaving!"

She quickly stashed some extra books in her bag before rushing downstairs to the fireplace where her mother fussed over Hugo's hair, trying to neaten it up to no avail.

"There you are," she smiled, turning her grooming attentions to her now. Although it was of little use to be honest, Rose's hair was always a little unruly – she had inherited her father's vivid colour but the body, waves and unruliness was her Mum's. "We need to get you to your Uncle and Aunt's house so your Dad and I aren't late catching the ferry."

Her parents were celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary, just the two of them, and her father had insisted on doing it 'the muggle way.' That apparently meant taking the most inefficient route to Paris: driving to Dover, catching the ferry and driving for many more hours in a foreign country, on the wrong side of the road. Her father, of course, wanted to drive the whole way to prove he could but Rose just knew they would probably end up get stuck on those 'roundabout thingies' (as he called them) for ages and bickering for hours afterwards.

"And you're sure we have to go to Uncle Harry's?" Rose moaned, "The two of us could handle it here alone while you're gone. I'm almost 17 and Hugo practically takes care of himself…"

Hermione frowned at her daughter, " _Almost_ being the operative word. You're still a wizarding minor and you're not even able to apparate or legally conduct magic outside of Hogwarts. I don't know what kind of mother you think I am that would leave my children defenceless like that… And anyway, what's the matter with you going to your Uncle and Aunt's? You always like going to Grimmauld Place."

It was true, she did. Rose loved spending time with her cousins, her aunt and uncle were really relaxed about things and they had a wonderful library of old and mysterious books. Only this time she knew that there was a high chance that at least one of her cousins had heard something about this stupid photo of hers and she didn't want to have to talk about it. She wanted a few more days in hiding before she had to go back to school and face it all.

Rose hadn't bothered to fight her mother any further – the woman did it for a living, afterall, so she grudgingly sought out her bags and a few minutes later she was crumpled on the living room floor of Grimmauld Place with Hugo (because he never ever listened about giving her time to clear the fireplace on the other side and always barreled in seconds after, bags and all).

Aunt Ginny chuckled as she picked them up off the floor and gave them a quick kiss each before running off to work.

"Help yourself to anything you want to eat. Lily's at a sleepover tonight. Al's around… somewhere," she said breathlessly as she gathered her bag and coat with half an eye on the clock. "Oh, and if he forgets can you tell Kreacher that it's seven for dinner?"

"Um, okay. Is James - ?" Rose began, but they both heard their aunt shouting a hurried 'bye' and the door slam, leaving Rose and Hugo alone again.

\- x X x -

Grimmauld Place was endless floors of small corridors and bedrooms, so many that Rose and Hugo practically had their own rooms and she knew exactly where to take her stuff, which she promptly did (without magic because, rather annoyingly, she was still underage) and then rather curtly rebuffed Hugo's questions about watching a movie of playing exploding snap to while away the time.

"Why not, Rose?" Hugo whined through the door she had just shut in his face.

"Because I've got better things to do with my time!" She threw herself back on the bed and stared forlornly at the cracking plaster of the ceiling.

"Like what?"

"Homework, reading, breathing." Moping about how half her house may have seen her tits. "All better uses of my time."

Vaguely she remembered her mother telling her to be less dismissive of Hugo and, she had to admit, she could be rather harsh towards him. He was just so hyperactive and boyish when she really preferred quieter pursuits. They clashed and brought out each other's pettiness and immaturity which was a side of herself Rose certainly did not like but she often couldn't help it around him.

Just as she considered giving in to that movie she heard the creak of a floorboard indicating that he had given up on her.

It was alright, she'd make it her new year's resolution to be nicer to him.

\- x X x -

The library of Grimmauld Place was on the fifth floor, stacked high from floor to ceiling with an extensive and varied collection of magical tomes, including a number of the ancestral texts of the Black family, the family of Uncle Harry's godfather. She was sure that none of the Potters must spend very much time in there because she had come across some quite dubious books of questionable ideologies stashed in the corners of its many shelves and she was very sure that neither her aunt nor uncle would want any of their children getting their hands on them. She had just taken an old Astronomy tome down to her room, reading with her legs outstretched in front of her on the bed, when she heard a mild tapping on her door.

She had already blurted out a lazy 'yeh' or 'what?' before remembering that this wasn't home and Hugo wasn't the best at knocking.

"I mean – "

"Oh, it's okay I can come back in a little while," Albus said sheepishly through the door.

"No, no. Al, come in!" Rose cried, placing the book aside and making for the door.

There was a pause before Albus quietly turned the knob and stepped inside, making sure to stay close to the door so as not to intrude too much.

Her brows furrowed slightly at the space between them, at Albus' awkward stance near the door and her heart pounding nervously. She couldn't place the point at which things had got weird between them, when they had stopped marching into each others rooms without needing a reason, when they'd stopped being able to ramble on for hours to each other about the silliest things

"Hi," he greeted tentatively.

"Hi."

"Do you... have everything you need?"

"Uh, yeh. Yes."

"What about tea or coffee? Maybe lunch? You must be hungry, I can get Kreacher to make something."

Tea or coffee? What was this, a business meeting?

"I'm fine," she smiled, plopping back onto the bed.

"Okay. Well, I just wanted to let you know that – um – Scorpius is coming over."

"Oh." So it wasn't James coming round for dinner. "Well…that's fine."

Fine. What a horrible word.

"He's staying over," he said again, "For about a week."

"Okay, Al," she said slowly with an exaggerated smile.

"I just wanted to check if you're okay with that."

"He's your friend. This is your house – you can have whoever you like over."

Was it her or was Albus acting a little weird? Granted she wasn't close with Scorpius Malfoy but they vaguely acknowledged each other's presence and she could generally get on with most people. Certainly be cordial enough to get through a week in this massive house, they could have separate floors for themselves.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay with everything," Albus said uncertainly.

"Okay," she smiled, "Well I am."

"Okay."

He was leaving and she was gathering up her book from her bed when she suddenly thought –

"Albus… Why wouldn't I be alright? What do you know?"

"Know? Me?"

That face was a dead giveaway: stoic and expressionless, as if he was schooling his features.

She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "You're a terrible liar for a Slytherin, Albus Potter," she said with a pursed lips and a raised eyebrow

"That's not true, I lie to my parents all the ti – "

"Well then just remember I know you, Albus." She wanted to remind him about all the times the two of them had played pranks on their family when they were younger and blamed in on their other cousins. "I know when you're covering up something… Oh Merlin. You _know_ , don't you?"

He paused for a split second, probably to weigh up his options, and then gave a resigning sigh.

"Fine. Yes, I know... Emery's in my Astronomy class and he was – you know – showing… people." Albus admitted with a wince.

"Oh God." Rose buried her face in her hands. "Oh _God_!" She threw her hands back off her face in exasperation, her wild red curls springing back. "Did you see?"

"What? Ew! _No!_ " Albus shook his hands frantically at her, his eyes stretched disturbingly wide.

"Wow, thanks Al…"

"You know I don't mean it like that, Rosie – It's just – "

"I know…" She moaned. "Ugh, did Scorpius Malfoy see? Is that why – "

"No, he didn't look. I mean, he knew Emery was passing round a… _revealing_ photo of you but he didn't look."

"Really?" She asked sceptically. In her experience of teenage boys none of them were usually so honourable as to miss out on chance to see a girl naked, if not for wanking escapades then just to objectify, compare and contrast with what other girls would probably look like naked. Emery Littlewood being case in point.

" _Really_ ," Albus insisted, taking a further step into the room, "He's decent, you know?"

She didn't know what she was really meant to say, she hardly knew the guy afterall and with all those letters she'd got yesterday she was starting to think decency was hard to come by. Her major concern though, was that this photo thing was a much bigger issue than she had originally thought. It wasn't just her group of Gryffindors who knew, it had reached other houses and Emery had been sharing it around in his classes like a bowl of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. The prick.

"Anyway…" Albus finally said after her long silence, "I was just letting you know so you could prepare or whatever."

Prepare? What did he think she could do? Go back in time and slap some sense into herself before she took the darn photo? Run away? Make herself invisible?

Wait. That last option was quite feasible what with Uncle Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

"Yeh," she replied quietly, her eyes directed at nothing in particular.

"And if you want to talk, you know... " He shrugged, uncertain whether he would really be of any comfort to her but she appreciated the gesture. That was the other thing about Albus, he never forced his way into a matter and foisted unsolicited advice upon people, but then again that was a distinctly Gryffindor trait and he was not a Gryffindor.

Rose watched him as he began to slink away unassumingly. "Thanks Al," she called after him, and he simply gave her a trademark lopsided grin before he closed the door and left her to her ponder what a mess she had got herself into.

\- x X x -

 **A/N: Hi all, this is my first piece of fanfic so be easy on me ;) but constructive criticism is most welcome! As you can see, it's going to be a multichapter coming of age drama and so I'm aware that Rose may not be the most likeable person but I hope you can still sympathise with her in some way. At the beginning of the chapter I wrote the 8 types of love that the Greeks distinguished between and I want Rose to learn about each one of those at some point in the story, not just romantic love or lust.**

 **Anyway, I'll let the story speak for itself so thanks for reading my first chapter and let me know what you think in the reviews!**


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: Everything HP related belongs JKR!**

 **A/N:** **Huge thanks to the people who have already reviewed, favourited and followed this story. That encouragement is just what I (and every writer) needs to keep getting the chapters out! Hope you enjoy this one :) x**

\- x X x -

 **Chapter Two**

\- x X x -

Scorpius arrived at 3 o'clock on the dot and walked into an empty living room at Grimmauld Place. It was nothing like Malfoy Manor, nowhere near as grand or tastefully decorated, instead the furniture was mismatching, every surface was cluttered with bits of the Potters' lives and they had no qualms of putting the children's childhood scrawls next to the works of some of the most eminent artists in the history of the wizarding world. No, it was nothing like the Manor but it had been Scorpius' heaven since the moment he had stepped foot in it back in the summer of their first year. The Potters had been apprehensive of the friendship between Albus and Scorpius but accepted it, and soon he had become such a regular visitor that Mrs. Potter made a point to buy his favourite cereal when he stayed over and he practically had his own room.

"Hello?" He called out to the darkened hallway.

"Hey," Albus' voice came, and he followed it round to the kitchen where he found him eating toast. "You want some?" He asked, mouth still full and waving the half-eaten piece of bread in his direction.

Scorpius shook his head gingerly and took a seat next to Albus. "So… how were the holidays? The Weasley Christmas Chaos?"

"Truly chaotic," Albus grinned. "I'm sure we're never supposed to be under one roof together. Fred and Louis put something in Molly's shampoo that turned her hair blue and she moaned about it for _days_ , accused everyone and tattled to her dad. And Uncle Percy is really high-strung about this stuff. He hates pranks. Then James brought his new girlfriend, you know the one that says 'enchanté' for no apparent reason and calls everyone 'darling' all the time? Anyway, we all hated her but, of course, we had to pretend to be okay for James, and then he heard Dominique making fun of her and… It was all crazy. As per usual," he finished with a small chuckle to himself. Then after a small moment he tentatively asked, "What about yours?"

Scorpius shrugged. "The usual," he replied.

Albus nodded and flashed a sympathetic smile, because he knew exactly what that meant.

Christmas was the one time of the year when all the living Malfoys would convene under the same roof and a painful reminder of all the things Scorpius hoped would stay buried. Lucius Malfoy who, despite turning his back on Voldermort and serving a fifteen year sentence in Azkaban, still clung on to those arcane beliefs of blood purity. His grandfather would carelessly spit out words like 'mudblood' across the dining table, and Scorpius would have to sit silently and pretend it didn't disturb him or go against everything his parents had taught him about tolerance.

His grandmother was marginally better. She was incredibly fond of Scorpius though she was set in her traditionalist ways: there was a 'right way' and a 'wrong way' to do things and Scorpius was constantly getting it wrong, he could tell by the way Narcissa looked at him when he wore his jeans or spoke about muggle art galleries. He didn't dare mention his best friend was a Potter.

The most painful part about Christmas, however, was seeing the lack of a certain presence: his mother, who had passed due to a magical curse when he was thirteen and had left the house a darker, colder place. Over the past three years his father had become a shadow of his former self, a man who was distant, rarely smiled and drowned himself in work. Every Christmas since his mother's death Scorpius had sat around the table, steeped high with stuffing balls, cranberry sauce, turkey and gammon, and just wished it to be over.

"So…" Albus began, suddenly drawing attention to the silence that had fallen between them. "Do you want to play poker?"

Scorpius' eyebrows sprung up. " _Poker?_ " He tried to ignore the fact that this conversation had taken an arbitrary and suspicious turn.

"Yeah," Albus replied, chewing on the last piece of his soggy toast.

"The two of us?"

"Mm-hmm. And Hugo."

"Wh - ?"

"Maybe Rose, if she feels like it." Albus was already wincing in anticipation.

Shit. _Shit._

" _Rose_ is here?" He asked, the panic was evident in his voice.

Albus cringed again. "They're staying with us for about a week."

"And you couldn't have mentioned this before?"

"You wouldn't have come if I'd told you!"

Damn. He had him there, and it was such a Slytherin move from Albus. Salazar would've been proud.

There was a time when Scorpius would have killed for an opportunity to spend a week in the vicinity of Rose Weasley, she'd been of particular intrigue to him pretty much since the moment he set eyes of her on the train to Hogwarts in their first year, standing in her purple jumper, arm woven through Albus'. However, something had gone wrong between them from the get go. She was polite, of course, _always_ polite, but she was guarded around him in a way that she never seemed to be with the many friends she had made. For the first few years he had tried to talk to her whenever he could and she would smile sweetly even when he said something embarrassing or weird, like his three minute ramble on why he liked frogs that concluded with him likening Rose to a frog. It was meant to be a compliment.

Needless to say, his charms didn't seem to be winning her favour and she was getting more and more inapproachable as the years went on. She was first in her year (joint with him, of course), a Gryffindor Quidditch player and always surrounded by friends. Not to mention she was gorgeous: flaming red waves, her athletic body and eyes that made him feel like he was constantly under a Confundus charm.

By fourth year, when he had embarrassed himself enough, he had decided to give up entirely on ever trying to talk to her unless it was strictly necessary. In fact, he may even go as far as to say he avoided her and Albus was now ruining that carefully crafted plan.

"Look, it'll all be fine," Albus continued, "Just be your normal self. You know, don't look at her all goo-goo eyed. "

Scorpius narrowed his eyes. "I do not go _'goo-goo eyed'_ over her."

"Really? You literally just did it," Albus smirked. He enjoyed teasing Scorpius about this, which was possibly the most dishearting part of it. He wouldn't joke if he thought it was even remotely possible.

"Don't worry, you probably won't see much of her anyway. She's been holed up in her room all day." Albus flicked crumbs into his plate. "I think she just heard about her photo getting out."

"You mean," Scorpius began, "You didn't tell her when you found out?"

"No… What? Don't look at me like that!" His best friend cried defensively. "I'm a _guy_."

"I'm aware…"

"And Rose and I haven't been close like that in years. I didn't want to embarrass her with that conversation!"

"Okay, I see your p– "

But Albus prattled on. "I mean, I did think about getting one of the girls to break it to her over the holidays, you know, in a _girl_ way. I thought about asking my sister but she's too young to know about any of this kind of stuff – "

Scorpius cocked his head with confusion. "She's 14. Almost 15."

"She's too young," Albus insisted with a glare and Scorpius nodded back respectfully. "And then I thought about Dominique but she's a bit of a blabber mouth and she can be _really blunt_ about these things. I think she got that from Aunt Fleur…"

"Albus – "

"I got scared," he blurted out, looking back guilty. He rubbed a hand over his face. "I should've said something but I got scared and now she's been completely blindsided by all this." Albus huffed in frustration. " _Fuck_ Emery Littlewood. Such a turd."

"Yeah," Scorpius nodded back.

A fucking lucky turd.

Scorpius had almost, _almost_ looked at her photo but the guilt had got him just as it began weaving its way through the classroom towards his table. He knew it wasn't what she wanted – girls judging, a dozen boys ogling over her, imagining what it would be like to have her hair tossed back against their pillow and legs wrapped around them – so he had subtly sent over a wordless _Incendio_ and watched it turn to ash just as Barty Paxman and Kumar Gupta were raving to each other about 'Rose fucking Weasley's banging tits.'

Did he wish he had seen them too? Of course. But he supposed the fantasy of seeing her naked would have to remain in his head for the indeterminate future. Possibly forever.

"Hey, stop thinking about my cousin naked," He suddenly heard Albus say with an indignant look about him.

"I wasn't – "

Albus's eyes narrowed dangerously, making Scorpius shrink back in his seat and look away guiltily.

\- x X x -

Rose didn't go downstairs when Scorpius Malfoy arrived but she could hear their mumbles and laughing, and she thought it best not to interrupt for a while. Let friends be friends.

Plus she didn't really want to face the awkwardness that would ensue.

Not only was this about her own little 'scandal' but she had steadfastly been told to avoid the boy ever since she first set her eyes upon him, aged eleven. Her father had always had the odd mutterings about Malfoys but she very clearly remembered the first day of Hogwarts, when he was sending her off on the train:

"That's little Scorpius Malfoy," he muttered under his breath when she had inadvertently caught sight of the striking shock of blond along the platform belonging to father and son. "Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

Her Dad had been promptly scolded by her mother but when she was too distracted with Hugo running off down the platform he had crouched down, looked Rose in the eyes and said, "Don't make enemies with the boy but maybe don't get too close, alright?"

Rose had vigorously nodded her head with a determined look about her. She had understood: he was a Malfoy, she was a Granger _and_ a Weasley – they were assumed incompatible. Like water and oil.

So she had marched off to the Hogwarts Express and excused herself when Albus wanted to sit in Malfoy's train carriage, politely declined Albus' invitations to hang out with him and his 'new friend' and never let herself be caught in too many situations with Scorpius Malfoy. Over the years, some contact became unavoidable since they were in similar classes, both became prefects and worked on the school newspaper together but, all in all, she had taken heed of father's advice. Perhaps a little too much.

At 5 o'clock, bundled in a chunky knit and jeans, Rose thought to go down for tea and stumbled across the three of them – Hugo, Albus and Scorpius – around a table, a deck of cards in play and stacks of coins.

"Rose!" Hugo jumped in his seat. "Lend me some money?"

She could hear Albus and Scorpius teasing her brother behind her while she spooned some tea leaves into a pot.

"You already owe me fortune, Hugo. Remember, I paid for your broom to get fixed when you drove it into the Lake and the steering went off?"

"It didn't cost _that_ much…" he grumbled. "I know you've got tonnes saved up."

She didn't even bother responding and just went about getting the tea ready while wondering how she would even begin making conversation with them or whether she could simply slip back to her room with her mug and get back to reading. If there was one thing she envied about Hugo it was that he never troubled himself with feeling awkward; talking nonsense and butting into other people's poker games was his thing.

"Please, Rose? If I win this round I could pay everything I owe you back," Hugo asked again as she carried the brewing teapot over to the table. She took a cursory look at his cards over his shoulder and grimaced. A Jack and a four.

"Not with _those_ cards you won't," she scoffed.

"Ohh, _Rose!_ " He moaned. "You ruined it! Now I have to fold…"

She bit back a laugh while her brother continued to whine at Albus, eventually glancing across the table to see Malfoy hadn't even looked up yet, his fine patrician nose still buried into the depths of the two cards in his hand as if they held the world's secrets.

"Hi Scorpius," she muttered cautiously across the table, filling the mugs with some tea.

He broke his concentration from his cards long enough to give her a faltering smile and a short, curt, 'hey.' Then he instantly looked back down.

That was their way now, keeping things simple and civil. When they were slightly younger she remembered him trying to make conversation, some may say he actually tried to compliment her (if saying she smelt like bread really counted as one) but that was certainly a thing of the past. She couldn't help but think that was mainly – okay, entirely – her fault.

"Do you want some tea?" She tried again.

His eyes refocused on her, pewter with speckles of silver. "Uh, yes please."

"Milk?"

"A bit." Again with the eyes. They were really quite mesmerising.

"Sugar?"

"No."

There was an odd silence as she got all the mugs ready, making her doubly, _triply_ aware of everything and everyone around her, especially Malfoy. When she would take a glimpse up, his eyes always seemed to be directed to an appropriate place – watching her hands, or looking at his cards, or at Hugo or Albus – but she still felt self-conscious. He may be decent, like Albus said, he may even have totally forgotten about her underwear photo, but what if he hadn't? He could be one of the anonymous authors of those letters or the 'artists' behind those vulgar drawings. He didn't really know her, maybe he now assumed she was a certain kind of person – the kind who takes off her clothes for anyone with a pulse. Easy. A slut. Maybe he was taking sly looks and staring at her like a piece of meat.

Rose subconsciously readjusted herself so her body was further lost in her oversized woolly jumper. None of her lady lumps or curves on show.

"Hey Rose, do you want to buy into the game?" Albus asked politely.

"Um," she blinked to Albus. She'd been staring strangely at Scorpius, she had just realised. "No, I don't think so, I'm saving my money up."

In her periphery she caught Hugo rolling his eyes at her. "She's always saving up. So boring, and she never does anything fun with it."

"We all like different things, Hugo," she intoned, pushing a mug of his extra milky tea towards him.

"It's always dresses and books, tops and books." Rose pursed her lips as her brother chattered on. "Skirts and books. Except last time when you spent _all_ your money on that blue underwear that looked like a mosquito net…"

She distinctly heard someone choking on their tea as she levelled a glare on her brother.

How _the fuck_ did he find out about that? And what was he thinking, bringing it up in front of other people?

Her eyes flitted across to the other two, looking gormlessly up at her over the rims of their mugs. Malfoy ducked his head down.

She felt her face warming, a lump forming in the back of her throat. A second later Rose slammed the milk pot down and tore out of the room up the stairs, letting the door of the kitchen slam when she left.

\- x X x -

Rose heard a light tapping on her bedroom door but ignored it in favour of snuggling further into her pillow and pulling her blanket over her head. She hoped that if she ignored whoever it was they would just bugger off.

But they kept tapping. And again. And again.

"What?!" She snapped, pulling her blanket away from her face. There was no peace, no quiet in this place.

"It's Al."

"I don't want to talk right now." She twisted into a new position in her bed, her back to the door.

"Rose, just open the door!"

She instantly pushed her body up and gaped at the door like he would somehow be able to see her outrage. Albus hadn't talked to her with that sort of attitude since… well, she didn't know when but it was a very long time ago.

"I'm serious," he warned, "I'll use magic – "

"You wouldn't dare," Rose shouted back. She fought the tangled blanket off her feet with irritation. "You're underage, Albus. The Improper Use of Magic Office will come knocking on your door."

"Well then I'll explain myself, I have a reasonable excuse."

Rose swung open the door with a flourish, standing so she blocked his entrance with her hands on her hips and her meanest face.

"Which is?" She challenged, raising her chin. The whole look was undermined by her blue, fluffy socks and mini unicorns printed on her pyjama pants but it was the effort that counted.

Albus grinned back. "That I thought my darling cousin was in trouble and I desperately needed to check up on her."

"They would never believe you."

"I don't know, I can be very convincing. I've got my father's bumbling charm and my mother's gumption," he said with a proud smile.

Rose couldn't help matching the smirk and stepped out his way as a wordless invitation to come inside.

"If you're here to defend Hugo – " She began, the smile slowly falling from her face.

"Actually I just wanted to talk, I didn't want you to feel like you were alone. And I wanted to apologise... for not warning you sooner about all this."

"Oh, it's okay," she murmured quietly, self-consciously.

She couldn't even bear looking at Albus, as non-judgmental and considerate as he had always been. Her hands busied themselves with the blankets of her bed, pulling them straight and fluffing the pillow as a simple distraction. When her bed couldn't get much more perfect and Albus was still there, perched on her dressing table, she finally said something.

"I'm just so embarrassed." It came out almost as a whisper. "And it's my fault; I can't really blame this one on Hugo either, he was just being an idiot. He's completely oblivious about… the…"

"Photo?"

"Yeh." She looked up from the floor she'd been staring at to Albus. "It's not something I would normally do. Taking photos in my underwear, giving them to a guy I barely know – it's not me."

She really wanted Albus to know that. She wanted _everyone_ to know but Albus more than anyone else because he had to see that there was still something of Rose that he recognised. If he saw it then maybe she would believe it herself.

"Then why'd you do it, Rosie?"

She shrugged. "Because I'm stupid."

"You're not stupid. You did _one_ stupid thing, it doesn't make you stupid," Albus replied softly. "I just want to know what you were thinking."

 _Why had she done it?_ That was a loaded question if she ever knew one. It wasn't just about Emery Littlewood or Camelia's crummy advice or that she had stupidly taken it.

"Do you remember Michael Tembey?"

"Um…" Albus' eyebrows furrowed like he had no idea what was going on.

"He was the first boy to ever ask me to go to Hogsmeade with him. I remember he bought me three chocolate frogs and then he kissed me round the back Honeydukes. My first kiss," she breathed. "I was so ecstatic, the first thing I wanted to do was come back and tell Lizzie and Camelia.

"I got back from the trip, went straight to the common room and everyone was already talking about us kissing. I thought it was okay, of course, so what if he told a few people? I was just about to do the same. But then there was this article in _Witch Weekly_ , do you remember that?"

Albus nodded uncertainly. "Yeah."

"My Dad was furious, obviously, and then Michael has all the boys patting him on the back, congratulating him – you know – 'well done, you bagged Rose Weasley,' 'you got one of the Golden kids,' 'you got in _Witch Weekly_.' Michael didn't even bother talking to me afterwards, he was just basking in the attention."

She heard Albus scoff with derision. "Wanker."

" _Complete_ wanker," she agreed. "What's worse is that more guys started trying to do the same. They'd ask me out and get annoyed if I didn't kiss them straight away. They just wanted to kiss _Rose Weasley_ , like I was a trophy, they didn't care about the person behind the name."

She knew that Albus must, in some form or other, be dealing with the same thing. Most of her cousins must be.

"Every time I had a 'thing' with a boy I could never tell if someone actually wanted to get to know me or if they just wanted to tick me off their list and get a few minutes of attention, so I always had by guard up.

"Then suddenly it's sixth year and I'm listening to Camelia telling me about stuff she did with some guy behind Greenhouse Three – "

"Ew."

" – and Lizzie and Sam are celebrating their two year anniversary, other girls are onto their second or third boyfriend and I've never really had any of that or _done_ anything. I guess I just wanted my chance to have what everyone else seemed to have..."

"So you picked Emery Littlewood?" Albus grimaced.

"He seemed nice! And he was discreet," she insisted, but she felt her face flushing with embarrassment, "We used to talk about Quidditch and… school. I didn't feel like he cared who my parents were at all and he really, _really_ didn't… just cared about me having the right lady parts to fondle," Rose muttered bitterly.

Albus bristled immediately. "Did he force you to do something?"

"No, Al," she groaned in response. "He didn't force me. It was just clear that he wanted to move things forward quicker than me. I was – " She worried her lip nervously. "I was worried he would get bored and move on, so I tried to stop that happening."

"And let me guess? This was Camelia's idea?" Albus had never taken a shine to her. Even for the few months when Rose tried to include Albus in with her new friends in first year, she could tell they clashed. The biggest fight she'd ever had with Albus (silent treatment and all) had been about Camelia and after they had resolved it she knew she'd never be able to hang out with them together. By virtue of Camelia being in Gryffindor as well, and Albus' friendship with Scorpius, it just happened that Rose spent more time with her than him.

" _I_ took her advice, though," Rose explained but Albus still snorted, muttered something like 'typical Camelia,' under his breath. "There were plenty of other ideas." She didn't mention that the original idea was a nude picture, and that some of the other plans were far more audacious. " _I_ took the photo, _I_ hid it in his textbook."

"Littlewood still shouldn't have done it."

"No."

"He's a prick," Albus declared.

"I realised that. He dumped me when I said I wanted to go slower; I can't have meant much to him." She sighed, "The conclusion is that all guys are idiots."

"Not _all_ guys."

"No, you're okay. You'd never do this to a girl." She smiled weakly at him.

" _No._ But there are some good guys out there for you, Rosie."

 _Rosie._ There were very few people in the world she had ever allowed to call her that: her parents, grandparents and Albus. But she hadn't heard him say it in a while.

Rose reached across to the end of the bed to Albus and enveloped him into a hug, holding back some tears that had been threatening to spill for the whole time he had been here. It was a familiar hug, safe with no pressure for it to end. When they finally did pull apart, she couldn't help but think she'd got something of her friend Albus back.

Suddenly Rose felt her heart sink again and cringed. "Al, what if this reaches the papers?"

"It hasn't yet, and it's been over a week," he assured her. "Plus, there's no photo - no evidence. I think there were only about six to eight people who actually saw it." When she frowned quizzically he added, "Someone burnt it in class but I don't know who."

"Huh," she said contemplatively. "A good Samaritan."

\- x X x -

 **A/N: Okay, was that too rambly? I realised there was a lot of dialogue but I thought it was the only way to get Rose's justification out. I also hope it was vaguely realistic in the way she handled herself and the reason why Rose would take the photo? That's kind of what I'm trying to aim for - realism. I want Rose to grow into the kind of woman you would expect a daughter of Hermione Granger to be but she's young and should be allowed her misjudgments, she won't always bounce back from her disappointments straight away but I'm not aiming to make her sorry sob story either ;)**

 **Thanks again for taking time to read and please, please review! I love to hear your thoughts, good or bad.**

 **The Goose x**


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: HP belongs to JKR, but hopefully I didn't need to tell you that.**

 **A/N: Thanks for the support so far everyone! I introduce to you the third installment which I'm a bit nervous about, I guess I just figured out that it's harder to keep people engaged in stories about character development rather than mystery/action pieces! Hope you enjoy :)**

\- x X x -

 **Chapter Three**

\- x X x -

It was an annual tradition that Gryffindor would host a party to see out the New Year and this year it was being held at one of the seventh years' house out in the country. With her friends and relations, Rose had been getting invitations to these parties since her third year but this year was the first time she had actually dared to ask her parents and they had, shockingly, agreed to let her go now that she was a sixth year (and with the full expectation that many of her older cousins would be around). She had asked their permission long before any rumours had started circulating, and now she wasn't sure she wanted to go at all. She would have to face her housemates and friends, they'd likely want to talk about it and ask her if she's 'okay'; then it was very likely that Emery would be there and she really couldn't be sure she wouldn't punch him in the face. She still felt quite raw about the whole thing.

"You should go to the party," Lily droned; she sounded distracted what with the amount of effort she was putting into painting her toe nails. Lily had come home earlier that day, almost immediately swept Rose off to her room and talked her ear off about all the gossip going around which completely ruined the plan of forgetting about anything that existed beyond the walls of Uncle Harry's house.

"No."

Lily plonked the top of the nail polish back in the bottle. "But you've wanted to go _for years_ and the photo thing isn't even that bad – they've probably already forgotten about it. Not many people believed it in the first place." Rose raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "I mean, it is _you_."

"Lily, I'd really just prefer to have a quiet one," she sighed, to which she saw her cousin roll her eyes.

Lily, she knew, had received her first invite to the New Year's party this year but had asked her parents and received an 'over our dead bodies' response. Instead she was being dragged with Aunt Ginny, Uncle Harry and Hugo to the Ministry Of Magic New Year's Eve event, she suspected, so that neither Lily nor Hugo would be left unattended to sneak off to another party. Lily had already whined about it for half an hour, branding it 'boring' and a 'glorified geriatric convention.' She couldn't fully understand how Rose, with an invite _and_ permission to go to Gryffindor's most talked about party, would choose to stay at home.

She watched as Lily delicately ran a brush through her enviably straight and frizz-free hair, applied a few coats of lip gloss and effortlessly glided on some eyeliner. At fourteen, she was many times more adept at beautifying than Rose is at sixteen. In fact she's a lot more precocious than Rose had been at that age, always looking to push her boundaries, keep up with the older cousins and getting ideas that were slightly beyond her age. She wished she could tell her that being older was really not what it's cracked up to be but she had a feeling Lily would never believe her.

"Who are you even dressing up for?" Rose asked with a quizzical frown. She had spent the last few days alternating between jeans and pyjama pants (as she thought anyone would do during their school holidays) and then there was Lily fiddling with the neckline of a semi-formal dress.

"Nobody – I'm not."

As unconvincing as it was, Rose did her best not to snort in disbelief, and she didn't question Lily's insistent requests to go to the living room nor the fact that she grabbed The Quibbler on the way down even though she couldn't remember Lily reading anything other than Witch Weekly.

It was when they trudged down the stairs and found Scorpius Malfoy, sat back in one of the sofas, that it all fell into place.

"Hi Scorpius," Lily greeted with a sweetness Rose hardly recognised, her face ever so slightly more pink than usual.

Yes. Now she _definitely_ got it.

It was like a bizarre comic-tragedy play in the making, and one that she suspected her Aunt and Uncle wouldn't appreciate. It was one thing for their children to be friends with the boy but a totally different kettle of fish to have him be a boyfriend. If he was just a friend they wouldn't have to think of Draco Malfoy – ex-Death Eater – being at intimate family birthday celebrations, or fear the day when they might announce their engagement or even consider which of the Malfoy, Potter or Weasley genes would finally win out in the grandchildren (she presumed the Malfoy blond would trump all).

Rose watched Lily make a special effort to brush against Scorpius' legs when she was manoeuvring around the coffee table. She sat primly further up the same sofa as him, tugged at the hem of her dress and shot him a sideways glance.

Malfoy smiled politely at her, quickly glanced over at Rose and then dipped his head back into the book he had been reading, much to Lily's disappointment. She deflated in her spot and gingerly peeled open The Quibbler to the contents page.

So much for all that then.

He probably thought Lily was too young, or entirely off limits because she's his best friend's sister. Or just out of his league. Regardless, it was probably for the best anyway.

Having watched the odd show play out, Rose went to sit in her favourite armchair off to the other side of the room and set her book down. She mushed the pillows of the chair around to get comfortable, untied her hair from its (hideously) messy bun and pulled at the sleeves of her baggy jumper only to catch Malfoy with his eyes on her. He looked away in an instant, obviously, but the reality had already hit her.

Maybe boys don't look for prim and pretty, maybe they wanted an easier prospect, and _she_ was apparently that easier prospect.

Fuck Emery Littlewood for making people think that. And fuck Scorpius Malfoy for believing it.

\- x X x -

Late December was inevitably a difficult time for both Draco and Scorpius, what with the disappointing family Christmas, the 29th being Astoria's birthday and the expectation that the new year would be no better than the last. Over the past few years Scorpius' father had made a habit of clearing off to a foreign country straight after Christmas under the guise of business dealings and he was sent to the Potters' place. Anyone may have interpreted that as a callous move by his father but Scorpius knew him, he was distracting himself with work rather than the memories of Astoria, he felt he was doing the best thing for his son to distance himself when he was likely to be at his lowest. He felt Scorpius would be happier away from him.

Instead Scorpius worried and haunted himself with memories of better times with his family. He didn't sleep much; he worked, just like his father, and when he got bored in the early hours of the morning he would go downstairs for a snack or some hot chocolate. Today being his mother's birthday, he had gone to the living room and made a Floo call to his Dad to make sure he was alright. Their conversation had been stifled (more so than usual) and they hadn't mentioned Astoria at all, only recycled the usual, safe topics of business and schoolwork. It shouldn't have been the case, but Scorpius was relieved when his father excused himself from the call for a meeting.

There was a light padding that he had assumed was Kreacher. That was until someone flicked on a lamp.

"Oh."

Scorpius jerked and almost sent a vase flying with his most uncoordinated flail of limbs before catching it just in time. He steadied the vase and himself for a second then peered round at Rose Weasley.

"Hi," she muttered uncomfortably. He didn't know whether it was specifically his presence that made her uncomfortable or just being around anyone, Rose had been spending a lot of time alone in her room.

"Hi," he replied simply.

A long silence; embarrassing really, but he didn't know how to fill it. He didn't have to.

"I didn't think anyone else would be up," Rose explained, still standing rigidly next to the floor lamp she'd turned on, "I'll just go –"

"No, no. You can stay – "

"No, it looks like you're… busy."

Great, now she thought he was a lunatic, sitting alone in complete darkness in someone else's living room. Doing absolutely nothing. It was psychotic-killer-level creepy.

"No, I'm not busy," he said frantically, "You stay, I'll – I'll go – "

"Or… we could just sit together." She stiffly removed herself from where she was standing and walked over to the armchair by the fireplace that she always seemed to sit in.

Again, they were back to silence, except for the occasional rustle when one of them would shift position. It was awkward as hell. They both had things they _could_ say to each other (as dull as prefect duties and homework may be to talk about) but perhaps there were too many elephants in the room to even try small talk.

He was about to fake a yawn and excuse himself when there was a faint _pop!_ and Kreacher crept forward towards the sofa.

"Master Scorpius would like his hot chocolate now?" The elf's voice rumbled as he wrung his hands.

"Um," Scorpius glanced up at Rose. That would be committing to staying here for longer. With the awkwardness. "Okay. Thanks," he said, perhaps against his better judgement.

"And Mistress Rosie Posie?" Kreacher asked. One of Scorpius' eyebrows jumped up of its own accord. "Some butterscotch biscuits?"

Even in the bad light he could tell Rose was blushing, she didn't want him to know about that particular nickname. "Some hot chocolate for me too, Kreacher. That'll be just fine, thank you."

Kreacher bowed his head slightly to them and two hot chocolate's appeared with a snap of his fingers before he retreated with another _pop!_

"Albus," he heard her say just as he leaned forward to pick up his mug. "When we were four he told Kreacher to call me Rosie Posie because he knew it would annoy me – it's from a muggle nursery rhyme."

"Sounds like something Albus would do." He allowed himself a grin and a quick look up at Rose, still flushed with embarrassment, her tumbling locks catching the dim light.

"I tried to correct him but Kreacher's supposed to serve the Potters, he listened to Albus' instruction over mine." Rose shrugged, "Now I'm used to it. It's quite sweet really…"

He nodded in agreement and coordinated sips of hot chocolate with her.

"So why are you up so late? Or early?" He corrected, and then frowned at his own awkwardness. No one was ever that pedantic.

"Oh, just couldn't sleep. I was working, then I thought I'd read down here for a bit." Rose half-heartedly waved her book at him. He wouldn't ask her why she couldn't sleep since he had a pretty good idea.

"So you finished reading _Porter's Alchemy_ then?" Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. "I saw you reading it," he explained. "Yesterday. When you came down with Lily."

Was it weird that he noticed that? He'd just made this all weird, hadn't he?

Instead Rose looked him in the eye and broke into a smile, small but genuine. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve it but her whole demeanour had suddenly changed and Scorpius allowed himself to release the lungful of air he'd apparently been holding ever since she walked into the room.

"Yes, just finished," she said. Still smiling. "It was…"

"Dry?" He supplied hesitantly. That was his diplomatic language for 'shit,' just in case it ended up being her favourite book and he ruined whatever this was that was going on between them right now.

She huffed a laugh. "Well I was going to say 'utter shite,' but yes, v _ery_ dry. Excellent bedtime reading material, though."

Something strange was going on. They were smiling at each other, talking about books and he hadn't embarrassed himself. Yet.

"So, what about you?" Rose asked, absently tracing the rim of her mug. "Why are you up at this hour?"

He gulped his mouthful of hot chocolate. "Same as you, I couldn't sleep. I was just doing work and stuff."

"Right." She nodded and then looked at him like she was expecting more.

"You know, Transfiguration essays and Astronomy… and Potions."

Well fuck. Now he was just listing subjects.

Scorpius cringed internally, wondering what he could possibly say. He couldn't tell her the truth, that today was his dead mother's birthday and he was thinking about her and his broken father half way across the world – that was far too intimate and uncomfortable a topic to have with Rose in their first real conversation for years.

"And I was calling my Dad," he suddenly said.

She looked at him as if surprised that he had spoken. "At 2:30 in the morning?"

"He's in Hong Kong," he explained. "On business."

"Oh," she frowned sympathetically. "That's a shame, him having to spend the holiday period away from you just for work."

What she really meant was that it was strange but she was kind and wouldn't delve further.

Scorpius shrugged it off. "He's been working really hard on a deal out there." That much was true, his father always worked hard. "Plus, he knows I like spending time with Albus."

"My parents are in Paris for their 20th anniversary, just the two of them. I wanted to stay at home but they didn't want me and my brother to be alone – probably thought we'd kill each other," she breathed a laugh and looked off thoughtfully to the window. "I'm glad we came here though, it's helped take my mind off a few things…"

There was a moment where he thought to say something, try and make her feel better about the gossip that was circulating. 'I'm sure it'll be fine' or 'it'll all blow over' – that sort of thing. Or he could come up with a hundred colourful terms for Emery Littlewood.

But he finally settled on something innocuous. "The Potters are good company," he said, his mouth quirking into a smile.

"Yeah," Rose grinned fondly. "They are."

They didn't speak to each other too much after that, only to excuse themselves to go to bed, but there was some definite progress between them – a glimmer of hope that one day they could be something other than passing strangers. He wouldn't hold his breath though.

\- x X x -

Rose walked down to breakfast to find Albus and Scorpius eating waffles and a pile of letters stacked on the table with her name on them. Having slept so little last night she was most certainly not in the mood for more letters begging her to come to the Gryffindor party or questions about what she was wearing, but she made the effort to say a pleasant 'good morning' and let herself catch Scorpius' eye as a vague acknowledgement. He had surprised her last night with their conversation. However superficial it was, it hadn't felt like _Scorpius Malfoy_ and _Rose Weasley_ , last night it was just two people talking with no history or preconceptions. Last night she hadn't felt like the girl in the photo.

As she sat down in her usual place next to Albus, she shoved the pile of letters away and proceeded to load her plate with fruit and waffles.

"Still avoiding the outside world, I see," her cousin muttered, eyeing her up with a sideways glance. Scorpius had just left the table and started on manually cleaning up some dishes a little way away.

"I already know what they're going to say," Rose replied but kept her eyes trained on the waffle she was cutting. "I'm not avoiding anyone."

A quick glance over at Scorpius and she could see he was still scrubbing at mugs. She really hoped he couldn't hear.

"Really? So I suppose you've decided to go to the Gryffindor party?"

She immediately stopped cutting and shot Albus a scowl. " _No._ "

"And may I ask why not?"

"Because I don't want to – "

"Because you're being a hermit." Albus punctuated his statement by popping a large piece of waffle in his mouth and giving her a sarcastic grin. They'd become very comfortable with each other again... perhaps a little too quickly if he was happy being this cheeky with her.

"I am _not_ a hermit!" She protested, perhaps a little too loudly because she felt Scorpius tense in her periphery. She lowered her voice. "Sitting out on one party doesn't make me a hermit."

"Rose, you're a teenager, it's New Year's and the first time your parents aren't dragging you to the Ministry of Magic's party. Do you really want to sit at home? _Alone?_ Even Grandma and Grandpa are doing more interesting things." He shook his head, "It's just not you."

Albus was right, she sounded exactly like a hermit.

"I just don't – " She huffed in resignation. "I can't be around them, Al. It's too soon."

"Okay," he sloppily chewed another piece of waffle. "Come to the Slytherin party then."

Rose blinked. "I'm sorry, I was distracted by the masticated waffle in your mouth." Albus rolled his eyes. "Did you just say 'come to the _Slytherin_ party'?"

"Yeah. It'll be fun."

Rose winced at the idea because in her mind 'fun' and 'Slytherin' didn't really mix. From what she had heard and experienced of them, most seemed to have a sharp edge. They were cold and sneering and superior, not the kind of people she would _choose_ to spend a night with. In fact, she completely understood why Albus didn't have a great number of friends – Slytherins seemed too unpleasant and all the other houses assumed he'd be just like them. She was actually surprised Albus wanted to go to the party in the first place.

"I don't know… there'll still be people there who may know." And she imagined they'd be more cruel about her photo fiasco than her Gryffindor friends.

"Rosie, we're Slytherins. We're notorious for our bad behaviour and salacious gossip," he smirked, "And most of them have done far more shocking things than you. I guarantee your photo – " She made a pointed look at Scorpius but Albus ignored her. " – doesn't even rank on a Slytherin's scale of scandal and indecency."

Now she was scared, but also weirdly intrigued…

"Isn't that right, Scor?" Albus called over to Scorpius who had probably rinsed each dish five times.

"Um, what?" He dried his hands on a tea towel and turned around looking blankly at them with his big grey eyes. It was a convincing effort of looking like he had no clue what they were talking about but she didn't buy it.

"Slytherin. Scandal."

"Right." He nodded with determination. "Lots of it. We're terrible people."

A smile crept up on Rose's lips as she looked at Scorpius. It was kind of sweet that he was playing along too.

"We have about five ex-students coming to the party who have all posed for PlayWitch or PlayWizard magazine in varying degrees of nude," Albus commented.

"Yeh, and Nott just cheated on both his girlfriends and none of the girls knew about each other. So that's bound to blow up…" Scorpius offered timidly.

"Delysia Horton," Albus continued. "She has stripped in front of four guys _at the same time_."

"And there are a multitude of dick-pics going around at the moment. Carl Parker, Scott Burton…" Rose watched Scorpius ruffle the back of his head in thought, his grey T-shirt pulling taught on his chest.

Wait… What was she doing?

"There'll probably be an orgy," Albus announced.

"Okay." She cut them both off before it got worse, holding her hands up in a plea to stop. She really hoped Albus was joking about the last part. "Even if I did go, I'd have nothing to wear. Really. I'd embarrass you."

It was an excuse to get out of it but also a legitimate concern. One thing she knew of Slytherins was that they were always polished and very well dressed (no matter how rotten they were inside), even Albus had developed a very sharp sense of style. She really hadn't been planning to go to any New Year's party so she had left all her party-type clothes behind and only brought an abundance of ill-fitting, fluffy garments. Even her good jeans were at home.

Albus leaned back in his chair, shrugged his shoulders. "Borrow something of Lily's,"

Rose gave him a look that she hoped he would understand, because borrowing Lily's clothes was certainly not an option. They may be roughly the same sort of size but Lily's wardrobe was full of frills, ditsy prints and pastel colours. She'd looked in there before to find a jumper she'd be willing to wear around the house and she had still found nothing. There was one that looked nice enough but when she turned it around there had been a rhinestone motif on the back. As good as Lily looked in her own clothes, they weren't to Rose's taste at all.

"Alright, I get it," Albus snorted and then got up straight away, summoning her in a somewhat shady manner up the stairs and then up more stairs, leaving a perplexed Scorpius behind in the kitchen.

When they got to the fifth floor he ushered her into a dark room filled with boxes and in dire need of dusting, and threw open a dark mahogany cupboard with carvings of Medusa on the doors. She was half expecting all the horrors of the world to start pouring out of it, like a Pandora's box, but instead they found a rack of slinky dresses.

"Mum's old clothes. There were apparently _a lot_ of parties with her Quidditch teammates before we came along."

Rose could only look at all the dresses slack jawed. They are slightly out of fashion – the materials, the neckline and thin straps – but some pieces could pass. She gasped at a particularly daring looking crop top, a blue dress with an enticingly low-cut back.

"Wow. Aunt Ginny was quite a firecracker in her day – "

"Don't," Albus whinged. " _Please._ I'd rather not think about my mother that way."

Rose stifled a grin and decided to keep the comments she'd overheard about his Mum to herself. Suffice to say that Aunt Ginny, still incredibly attractive in her early forties, had not gone entirely unnoticed by the hormonal oafs at school.

Albus left her to peruse on her own with a parting warning that there were pictures of her aunt somewhere. Twenty minutes later and she had settled on the simplest black dress she could find: sleeveless with a neck that scooped a little too much and a hemline about two inches shorter than she would like, but it was the item she would be most comfortable in and likely to blend in best with the ever-stylish Slytherins. She certainly didn't want to attract too much attention, she felt she had too much already.

\- x X x -

 **A/N: I'm trying to make it so each scene has a point of some sort but please tell me if it's not really clear. Next chapter is the New Year's party and Rose kind of 'getting out there.' And no, there will not be any Lily/Scorpius. Well, not two-way anyway.**

 **Please don't forget to** **review** **! I love hearing your thoughts and suggestions to improve.**

 **P.S. Thanks to the guest reviewer who reminded me that there aren't usually eighth years... reading too much post-war Hermione, Harry, Ron stuff and forgot that it ends at seven years ;) It's been corrected.**

 **UPDATE (5/9/17): just letting you all know that I'm on holiday for the next week or so which means no writing or updates, but I will get back to it with a vengeance when I get back home!**


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: I dance to JKR's music. Everything HP is all hers.**

 **A/N: Hi all! Thanks for your lovely reviews and patience while I was away, I'm hoping to get back into the groove now :) I bring you chapter four which, I will warn you now, is mainly about Rose and Albus. The Scorose is coming - I promise - but there's stuff for Rose to work on first. Hope you enjoy!**

\- x X x -

 **Chapter Four**

\- x X x -

The dress was figure-hugging. It was snug. Constricting.

Each time Rose tried it on the adjective got ever so slightly more negative until she concluded – on the night of the actual party – that it was just too damn _tight_. She felt as though she was under the effect of an Incancerous spell, except instead of ropes it was black satin wound so taut around her she could hardly walk. The hemline was obscenely high, showing off far too much of her pasty, white legs; and the scoop neck –

"I feel like my boobs are spilling over the top," she huffed at the mirror.

"At least you _have_ boobs."

Rose stopped pulling at her neckline momentarily and watched a dejected Lily look down at her own, drowned out by the baby blue taffeta of her evening dress for the Ministry function. Yes, Rose had boobs and she was grateful (there were still a few girls in her year waiting for theirs to really come in) but she wasn't a huge fan of them right now – they were proving to be a nuisance and a topic of conversation in some circles. She couldn't forget that.

"I can't go out like this. I'm going to get your Mum to make the alterations." Rose absolutely detested that she couldn't use her magic to do them herself.

"No, don't!" Lily leapt up. "You look nice _just like that_."

She deliberated for a long while, looking into Lily's pleading eyes, absently chewing the inside of her lip until she almost broke skin. Short of a tantrum or throwing herself down the stairs, Rose had exhausted all the possible excuses to get out of going to this party so she was down to whining about her dress. She knew, however, that Albus and Lily were intent on getting her out of the house – they would find a solution to anything she threw at them – so she decided to concede victory to her cousins (and their stubbornness).

She scoffed an indelicate 'fine' and sat patiently while Lily did her make-up for her with her usual perfection. Her freckles were brushed away, there were no panda eyes, and no swiping and wiping for fifteen minutes, just perfect eyeliner and a slight dusting of eyeshadow to frame her stark blue eyes and make Rose feel slightly less intimidated by the thought of being in a room with hundreds of Slytherins and their perfect eyebrows.

When Lily pulled out the red lipstick, though, Rose's face instantly fell into a scowl.

"Oh, go on! Be daring," Lily begged.

"I've already been daring. I took pictures of myself in flimsy underwear and gave it to an absolute prick. The pink will be just fine."

Lily rolled her eyes but grinned, nonetheless, while reaching for the pink lipstick that was essentially just Rose's lip colour. "At least you're making fun of yourself now. You must be feeling slightly better about it all."

Well she didn't know about that. She was nervous as hell about this New Year's Eve party tonight and still dreaded the thought of going back to school, but she supposed she was more comfortable in the small sphere of Grimmauld Place where she felt safe from judgement and torment. What would happen beyond it was yet to be seen, and she told Lily just that.

Rose clasped a delicate silver chain choker around her neck, and let Lily pull and yank at her hair for a good twenty minutes in an attempt to tame her undisciplined tresses. By the end she had used a combination of a five or six different potions but her young cousin turned out to be a bona fide miracle worker, transforming her hair so it fell into ringlets rather than the frizzy bomb she often had (that usually needs to be restrained with not one but two hairbands).

"So are you going to kiss anyone at midnight?" Lily waggled her eyebrows teasingly while hovering a pencil with an unknown function over her face.

Rose scrunched her nose in distaste. "Lil, it'll be a room full of Slytherin, teenaged boys. I wouldn't ever think of kissing anyone there, especially not – "

"Oh Rose!" Her cousin 'tsked' loudly and stood up straight with her arms crossed. "Don't be so judgemental!"

"What?!" She frowned up from her place on the bed, her tone suddenly defensive. "Given my _current situation_ , I don't think I should be kissing anyone I've just met at some drunken party!"

"But that's not what you said." Lily shook her head, her mouth tilted with disappointment. " _You_ said you wouldn't go near them just because they were Slytherins. They have admirable qualities too, you know? They don't all have to be Mouldy Voldy and you should really get to _know_ people before you completely write them off," she suggested firmly, crouching back down and pencilling at her eyebrow with more force than Rose thought was strictly necessary.

She felt quite thoroughly chastised – by a fourteen year old no less – and she was certainly shocked at that level of wisdom coming from _Lily_. But then Rose remembered her cousin's little crush on Scorpius and couldn't help but wonder if her scolding wasn't a little biased.

True, but biased.

\- x X x -

A pair of black stillettos and several clouds of perfume later, Rose walked down anxiously and paused halfway down the last flight of stairs at the sight of Scorpius in the hallway, shoving his wand up the sleeve of his jumper. He was dressed in black too. Well _charcoal_ – charcoal jumper, charcoal shoes, jeans somewhere between charcoal and black – which seemed to make his porcelain skin and artfully dishevelled hair glow in the delicate light of the corridor.

Maybe, _maybe_ she could see what Lily saw.

He was quite… striking. Beautiful, really. Perhaps a part of her had always known it; perhaps that was why she had stared so long at him down platform 9¾ in first year, but she had never allowed herself to actually _think_ it before. Now that she had, she found it really quite hard to forget.

"You ready?" She felt her heart leap out of her chest at Albus' voice directly behind her, her entire body jolting as he skirted around her on the steps.

Merlin. How long had he been standing there watching her check out his best friend?

Wait. Was that what she had been doing? _Checking him out?_

Albus cast a quick look back at her as he went down the stairs. "You look nice," he smiled, seemingly oblivious.

"Uh, thanks," Rose brushed the front of her skirt of imaginary lint, "You too." He was wearing a variation of black as well.

Their exchange had unwittingly caught Scorpius' attention and she felt those unnerving silver eyes directed at her, _lingering_ on her in her too-short-too-tight dress. It was only for moment but she didn't know how she felt about it…

Then the usual Potter-Weasley chaos broke out around them and distracted him again. Hugo bounded in with his bow-tie in hand asking if anyone could actually tie the bloody thing because Uncle Harry was _useless_ , Lily seemed rather distraught about some enchanted hairclips that she couldn't find and Aunt Ginny was questioning Albus about when the three of them would be back from the party.

"Erm. Late?" He replied. Her Aunt whipped round, still hooking her earring in, and gave Albus a look that made him shrink in his place.

"Albus Severus Potter, all three of you should be tucked up in your beds by 12.30 or I _will_ get your father to send out a squad of Auror's to find you all."

"But – "

"Don't argue, darling," she reached up and pecked Albus fondly on the cheek, "You won't win."

It echoed with the same finality that Grandma Weasley often had and Aunt Ginny was soon too distracted by Lily's persistent questions about her fluttering bird hairclips to notice Albus' deep-set frown, nor did she realise when Uncle Harry patted him on the back and whispered, "I'll talk to her," in his ear. "Just be back by 2. But she's right about the aurors," he added with a smile. "Have fun."

Albus grinned back and quickly ushered Scorpius and Rose towards the fireplace before Aunt Ginny had a moment to fight him on it.

\- x X x -

"Woah," Rose gaped up at the large circular atrium, the ceiling enchanted with a view of the night sky and rays of green and purple – the _Aurora Borealis_.

"Yeah…" was Albus' simple reply, his mouth also hanging open.

" _Woah._ " Rose had just taken a look at the rest of the house. The party stretched from the grand foyer into a huge room supported by marble columns, with chandeliers dripping from the ceilings. Aerial silk dancers, enchanted roulette tables and throngs of young Slytherins all pulsed to the beat of an actual, live band.

Albus gawked. "Are those _The Devil's Snares_?" In other words, the current number one artists of the British wizarding world.

Rose and Scorpius simultaneously twisted round to the stage in total disbelief. But there they were, decked in their trademark midnight blue and silver robes, sounding even better than their albums (Rose obviously had the complete set). And Laurie Jaeger – their bass player – looked even hotter than in the poster she and Lizzie had hanging between their beds at Hogwarts. Rose liked to think of herself above the silliness of fangirling but she had to admit that she did go slightly weak at the knees whenever she caught him winking at her from the poster in all his blonde-haired, blue-eyed glory. Now he was here, in flesh and blood.

She tugged mindlessly on Albus' arm. "And you said this is the sixth richest wizarding family in Britain?"

"Apparently…" He eyed a plate of canapes disappearing off into the crowd.

"Who _on Earth_ are the others?"

By the furtive glance Albus gave her and the way Scorpius looked so comfortable making his way through the crowds and plucking drinks off trays, she had a pretty good idea who one of those families were.

\- x X x -

It took a while for the whole scene to really sink in, by which time Rose had been ushered to a bar and had a mimosa shoved into her hand, in an _actual_ champagne flute. She was secretly relieved that she had bothered to dress up the way she had so she fit in with everyone in their sophisticated (if not slightly underwear-like) dresses. Had this been the Gryffindor party she would have gladly worn jeans, or a ridiculous fancy dress costume if she was really putting in an effort. Then again, Gryffindor's idea of a party was a couple of bottles of Firewhiskey and luke warm butterbeer to the tune of some 90s records. Their closest thing to a cocktail was the standard 'squashka,' which is squash (not even real juice) and vodka in a wonky proportion intended to make you drunk as quickly as possible, preferably gullible enough to do something that you'd regret the next day.

Rose, of course, loved Gryffindor events and she had always been of the mind that the people made the party not the drinks or food. But she did acknowledge that Slytherins clearly partied on a whole new level.

She felt herself jostle into Scorpius' chest as Albus forced his way through the masses to them, dragging some poor soul with him.

"This is Chris," he grinned, by way of an introduction, and gently pushed a lanky, brassy-haired boy forward. "Chris, this is my cousin, Rose, and you know Scorpius."

Rose already knew him as well; quite well actually. They used to talk a lot back in the days of Herbology and sat next to each other for the whole of Transfiguration last year. Chris was also the keeper of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team which meant there was a good deal of banter between them, as opposing chaser and keeper – friendly rather than snide and overly competitive like some could be. From what she had gathered of Chris he was funny, open-minded with an easy laugh and varied interests, but specifically in caring for wounded magical creatures. In other words, he was _nice_ and she had to wonder what on Earth a nice Ravenclaw boy would be doing at a Slytherin party like this.

But then again, _she_ was here, wasn't she?

"So… Shall we all go dance?" Chris nudged his head in the general direction of the crowd, glittering under the enchanted sizzles of fireworks above their heads. His brown eyes darted between the three of them in an all too convincing manner that had Rose and Albus give in immediately but Scorpius, more reserved (as he had been the whole time), shook his head with a slight cringe.

"Oh, come on!" Albus and Chris called over the crowd at him.

"I _really_ shouldn't." He shook his head with more vigour this time. "I don't – I'm not much of a dancer. Think Giant Squid on the dancefloor."

Albus grumbled something in response, though it was lost amongst the noise and he was already steering Rose and Chris towards the dancefloor.

"Come on," he said jovially, "Scorpius'll join us when he gets a few more of those purple drinks in him."

It was strange, Rose had never known Albus to be an enthusiastic party-goer or dancer – that was more her thing, or James' or Roxane's. Certainly not his. Stranger still for Scorpius to come to a party and stay on the sidelines, and for Albus to so willingly leave his best friend there, but she assumed that if anyone understood Scorpius Malfoy it would be her cousin. So she shrugged it off, followed Albus through the hordes of people and slowly felt herself get lost to the music.

\- x X x -

Rose closed her eyes and let her arms float above her head, swaying her hips in time with Albus and Chris beside her while the music drummed into her bones. They had bustled closer to the stage, she had a few of those suspicious purple drinks in her (enough to be merry but not quite drunk) and – most importantly – no one had bothered her about that dreaded photo. Albus was right, no one here paid much attention to it. In fact, no one here paid much attention _to her_ , they were too busy flagging down their next drink or grinding lewdly against each other to notice her, which was oddly refreshing. Freeing even. She could jump around stupidly to the dizzying pace of the music without a care in the world.

When the end of a song came round she pushed her way through the bodies and clammy, alcohol tinged air to the bar, and glanced over the room. The party was bigger now and things seemed to have turned at some point, so everyone was that much more drunk and clumsy. And more blatant. Each crevice and dark corner was filled with people sucking each other's faces off (or something more but she didn't dare let her gaze linger), others were dancing on the tables, brandishing spirit bottles, licking alcohol off each other. Some had clearly stripped off layers of clothing.

Scandal and indecency _indeed_.

And then, amongst it all, she zoned in on the distinctive shimmer of blond, still fully clothed, immaculate, cradling a single tumbler of watered-down whiskey and engaged in what looked like a rather sensible conversation. Scorpius looked entirely bored, but it appeared to be business or at the very least brown-nosing. Certainly not a place for her.

Rose slowly turned herself to the dancefloor again to plot her way back to Albus and Chris. She couldn't spot them at first, then the crowd shifted gradually with the music and she saw the crown of her cousin's messy black hair that stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the perfectly styled coifs and updos of his peers. She began to make her way forward with purpose until the crowd shuffled again and she found herself freezing, abruptly in her spot.

It was Albus and Chris, dancing very closely. Intimately. There was nothing overly suggestive about it but there was something about the looks, the brushes of the arm, the smiles that certainly implied they were more than friends and probably more than just a one night fling.

Rose blinked blankly at the pair, her feet still rooted to the spot. A hundred questions buzzed around her slightly fogged brain. How long had they been together? _Were_ they together? When did he realise? And who else knew?

"Two months," she heard a soft voice from right beside her, one that she was slowly getting used to. "They've been kind-of together for two months now." Rose was sure she hadn't actually said anything aloud so he must have guessed what was going on in her head. Or it was plainly written on her face.

She didn't turn to Scorpius, only kept her gaze resting on her cousin and his apparent boyfriend. "They look happy."

Scorpius gave a sound of agreement. "Seems that way. Though it was a bit touch and go for a while – Chris had a boyfriend that he broke up with over the summer and Albus was really nervous about telling his parents."

She quickly turned to him, "Has he?"

"Yes." Malfoy smiled at her kindly. "I think it's getting quite serious between them so Albus told them just recently, when he came back from Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays. He said they seemed fine with it – happy for him – so… all is good."

Rose nodded, huffed a sigh of relief. "Good. That's good," she nodded again and quickly settled her eyes back on Albus and Chris so she missed how Scorpius watched her relief turn to a slight sadness.

Truthfully she was finding it all hard to process. It wasn't Albus' sexuality or the fact that he had a boyfriend – none of that would ever have bothered her – but she had suddenly realised how much of each other's lives they had missed. She still thought of Albus as the little boy who would help her catch frogs down by the lake or helped her tie stink bombs to the cat before it ran into a living room full of their family members. He wasn't that boy anymore and she wasn't that girl; they'd both matured, met new people, learnt things about themselves, become more complex. Now he was _dating_ someone, like a grown up.

She felt they'd become complete strangers to each other.

What was worse was that she had only just realised, with all the support and comfort Albus had been giving her, she had barely bothered to ask about _him_ and _his_ life. She'd been too busy thinking _she_ had all the issues, like some self-absorbed twit. And how stupid to think that a couple of easy conversations could suddenly fix the chasm that had formed between them over the last six years.

She shook her head at herself. It didn't matter what she thought of Scorpius or his family or Slytherins, there was no doubt that he had actually been there for Albus when he needed someone. Even now, Scorpius seemed to have come along to this party (that was clearly not his scene) just to offer some kind of moral support. _He_ had been his confidant and partner in crime the past few years. Not her.

Rose took a dry swallow, feeling guilty and – perhaps – just a little bit jealous.

"So…" she began, blinking to Scorpius. She wanted to think of something other than what an idiot she has been. "You don't dance?"

He didn't seem the least bit perturbed by the sudden change in subject. "Er, no. I don't really know how to."

" _Really?_ " Rose turned completely to face him, her mouth clumsily dropping open with outrage. "I thought you'd definitely be the kind to have dance lessons."

 _You'd be the kind._ She instantly heard the judgement her words, just what Lily had scolded her about, but she couldn't help it. He was _rich_ , from the strata of society that held huge parties in their manors with top musical acts and aerial dancers, just like this one. They probably went to one of these every weekend. There had to be dancing at some of them.

"I have had lessons." He laughed off her bluntness (and she felt mildly vindicated). "I know how to waltz and foxtrot. For some reason I even know how to tango but I don't know how to do… _that_." He looked mildly horrified at the dancefloor, the band had stopped playing and some generic beat was now thumping in the background with bodies spasming wildly under the flashes of light.

"Gyrating?" She finished with a small grin. "Anybody can do that. Or nobody can do it – I don't know which one – but you don't have to worry, we all look slightly silly doing it. It's kind of the point."

He scoffed disbelievingly. " _You_ don't look silly doing it." Then rushed to add: "And Chris doesn't. Can't really say that about Albus."

She knows it's likely he's just being nice and making conversation, but she couldn't help feeling just a little satisfied that he had apparently noticed her dancing and liked it. But she instantly decided to brush it off, put it down to those mind-bending purple drinks (lethal stuff they are) and turned her face away from his view because she is most certainly not blushing. No, it was just really warm with all these people.

"I'm sure you'll be fine with it too if you try. We could both join Albus and – "

Rose was instantly cut off by some _very_ high pitched, excited squeals (think young Mandrakes) as two girls, almost clones of each other, flocked around Scorpius and shoved her into a nearby table. She knew them, of course, and would probably remember their names if she bothered to look past their generic hair and make-up, and the negligée dresses (which seems to be the uniform for a Slytherin party) to distinguish them from each other. But she didn't care to.

The girls reached up and hugged Scorpius amorously, pressing their breasts into his chest and pecking him on the cheek. He introduced her, of course, as good manners dictate, but all she got in return was a curt smile (that she would really call a sneer). Then, with a flutter of their eyelashes, they went on to ask about Scorpius' holidays and family; one of them even asked about 'Cissa' so casually that she assumed it was some kind of pet or young relative of his. It took an inordinately long time to realise that they were actually talking about Narcissa, as in _The_ Narcissa Malfoy – matriarch of the infamous, notorious family – not some five-year-old with pigtails.

There was something absurd about the whole conversation, though she had to remember: she was an outsider in this world, surrounded by people she just didn't really understand.

"Oh my goodness!" One of the girls gave a sudden, melodious laugh. Pretty, but entirely too over the top considering they were talking about Shrivelfig trees. "That is _so_ like Cissa!"

Not only were these people she didn't understand but she didn't really _want_ to understand them either. It was the first time Rose had let herself think of what she was missing with the Gryffindors. _Her_ Gryffindors. There'd probably be some kind of drink-downing-food-guzzling competition happening right now in the middle of a makeshift dancefloor. She'd be amongst it all being ferried around on someone's shoulders with glitter on her face, no doubt, rather than being this forgotten thing seeping into the brocade drapery.

There had to be some way to spend the next hour until midnight other than watching these two girls flirt and chat up Scorpius Malfoy. Rose eyed the food grimly – it was all caviar and oysters which she really couldn't stomach right now; the dancefloor looked a little bit like the early stages of that orgy Albus had mentioned which she daren't tackle alone, and then there was always hiding away somewhere like an abandoned study or bathroom. She hadn't done something like that since her hair-taming spell went awry in third year.

"…and I told her, I said the Malfoys would know where to find…"

Somewhere in the distance she caught Albus and Chris making their way off the dancefloor so excused herself (not that anybody cared) and bounded up to them, relieved to see their smiles, to have Chris shove a drink in her hand and Albus swing an arm around her.

"Rosssie!" He sang happily, drifting ominously in his spot. She got a particularly strong whiff of alcohol and blueberries from him.

"Merlin, Al," she giggled and wafted the air between them. "I could get drunk off your breath!"

He grinned, tried to stifle a burp. "I'm a lit-tle tipss-uh."

"Hammered." Chris corrected with a boyish laugh and an almost imperceptible movement of his arm which, she had only just realised, was braced around Albus in support. It was sweet, with far more care than she ever handled anyone in that state but obviously she knew why now. "We've moved onto water –"

"So blaand," Albus complained with a floppy shake of the head.

"It's needed."

"So _bland_!"

"You can't show us your cool dance moves if you're too busy throwing up," Rose stated with a teasing brow.

"Good point!" Albus exaggeratedly pointed at her, his whole body swaying with it. "And I am Kung –" he hiccupped, "– of the dancefloor."

She and Chris huffed a laugh.

"Come on then _King of the Dancefloor_ , let's go. Show me your kingdom." Rose looped herself through Albus' free arm and the next thing she knew, she was being dragged with full, uncoordinated force to the centre of crowd and watching him flop his arms around comically.

Albus, she had learnt tonight, is not the best dancer even when sober. He's off beat, he flails and his dance repertoire consists of the cheesiest moves but she loved it and, most importantly, Chris loved it. In fact, they do it together and it makes her laugh.

\- x X x -

 **A/N: I know you're all here for the Scorose but I did say other relationships would come into the spotlight - relationships with family members, friends and with oneself - so I'm working on them for this chapter. It seems appropriate, what with the situation, that Rose work on herself for a bit.**  
 **As a silly sidenote, I very randomly imagine** ** _The Devil's Snares_** **to have music like The Killers. I danced around stupidly to 'Mr. Brightside' and 'Human' many a time ;)**

 **Don't forget to** **review** **and tell me what you think! I'm also going to ask the occasional review question to you all...**

 **Review Qu: Which party would you rather be at? Gryffindor's or Slytherin's?**

UPDATE (9/10/2017): Sorry everyone, got a case of the writer's block so the next chapter is being churned out pretty slowly. I'm on it, though. It _will_ come.


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